Howling Wilderness
by Roman Tudor
Summary: Whenever he looks up, she descends from on high and takes his breath away. Ares and Athena on the warpath. What will happen should Ares become overconfident? (PiersxAda of course. Nivansong and WARNING: FEELS)


_"Without you life is a desert. A howl in the wilderness." _- Henry VIII

**A/N:** So on tumblr there's this meme thing, that basically says "If I/my muse were dying in your/your muse's arms what would they say" or whatever. You reblog it and people will send you answers in your ask, or LONG ones like me and some of my friends so, so we submit them. For the past day it's went around and OH MY GOD MY FEELS! I submitted my own to my Ada, but another Piers I know was writing them like crazy and made my feels go soiaksjdpo SO I WROTE THIS TO GET IT OUT OF MY SYSTEM. Forgive me.

It hadn't been a surprise to encounter her in the middle of this outbreak. She almost always seemed to have an eye on and a hand in everything. So when she came out of nowhere, swinging into the action from somewhere above high, he continued like it occured all the time. Like Athena descending from Olympus to join the fray, she sprayed the monsters surrounding them with bullets. This was not their first battle fighting together though, and like a dance they moved as a team. Both had traded spear for something a little more modern, but were no means less deadly.

They fell all those in their way, every creature that attempted to strike at them was taken down flat. In a way it was almost of if together they were truly invincible. Ares and Athena, any differences reconciled and the gap between them closed, sealed. If there had been any survivors to witness their charge, they would have described it as terrifying but exilerating. As it stood, there was no one but them around to witness the path they carved to victory. Not even his team, who he had helped lead into this battle. Misfortune found them promptly. Chris had been separated from them long ago. The search for their Captain had ended with only him.

He never failed to wonder why.

A lull in their fire as the last of the B.O.W.s in the area were cleared and all they could hear were the distant sounds of rampage. She took that time to speak to him finally "Soldier Boy." came the greeting. He was reloading his Heckler & Koch UMP9 when he heard her speak from the left, "Butterfly." was the return. Neither showed signs of battle fatigue or as if they were even in a battle at that moment. Her own hands worked on reloading the Ruger MP9 she carried "Where's those boyscouts of your's?" casual still. It struck a cord, but he didn't let it show as he clicked the magazine in place.

"Dead. All except myself and the Captain." she had no response other than a hum of acknowledgement. She wouldn't press, it would hurt him.

"Well then, I'll assume he's around here somewhere. Shall I help you find him?" he looked up from his weapon at her, seeing she too had finished. She wasn't here just to help him out, something else had brought her all the way over to Brazil. But he would see accept, take the offered help and see how long she'd tag. "Like I'd say no to your company." he stated lightly, moving from the wall he had been leaning against to move forward down the street. At his side, "I'd ask why you're here, but unless you're ready to tell me I won't find out." it wasn't a question, but a statement.

Painted lips curved in a smile at him, a purr. Which basically meant _"You bet your ass."_, because Ada Wong never told a soul anything unless she wanted to. "Your ear piece?" she asked, and he knew what she meant "Working alright, but I think he either lost or broke his.". Silence fell after that, neither offering a word as they marched from their beginning point and kept an eye out for anything while moving down alleys. Mindless prattle did neither no good especially as they got deeper into the heart of the city. Talking was only done in this point of the hot-zone if necessary as to not draw any unwanted attention.

For a while they moved together, having the fortune of only crossing a few B.O.W. on their way. This was not to last, of course. And soon they found themselves back to back and side by side fighting an entire horde of J'avo together. Their number was stronger than before, and these seemed all the more hell bent to spill blood-they'd help. Only the blood to be spilt wouldn't be uninfected. Coppery tang on his tongue, he traced the roof of his mouth as he brought more.

Her shoulder brushed his as she exchanged the gun for the crossbow, pulling it tight and letting go into the nearest enemy. Dying screeches filled the night, he felt sure victory would belong to them again as he brought down another. While he had lost three men tonight he would walk away with his Captain and would see her later, maybe even a few hours after he returned to base if he were lucky. The idea filled him with warmth, as it always did.

Because they fit, didn't they? King and Queen of the battlefield, war and strategy, bloodshed was common ground for them to tread together. One which they had placed a foothold on to build upon for something more, and now if they wanted they could have worked to take over the Mount Olympus palace from Zeus' power. They fit. Natural.

And like many before him, the confidence he let take hold of him tripped him up.

One minute they were victors, and the next thing he knew he got careless. Normally sharp senses had been more tuned to watching the back of the woman behind him, and it was costly. He never saw the large knife headed his way but she did, and she shoved him out of the way after calling "Piers!". Surprised he turned to see her firing an arrow into the forehead of the attacker, and so he thought nothing of it again. That is, until they had cleared the room.

The glint of light on steel caught his attention, upon closer inspection he saw it was covered in blood. There wasn't even a moment of confusion, looking over at her it was all too obvious. And if it hadn't already been, he would have known from her stance "Ada?" he questioned uncertainly. His voice had a quality he wasn't used to: fear. She didn't answer him, her hand went over her side where a growing stain made itself known. "Ada?" again, and this time she looked up at him, and then she was collapsing. It was almost like slow motion.

He was there already, arms around her so gently that she may as well have been made of glass. Athena's armor had been pierced, and it was through no fault of her own. Looking on it now, it was no wonder why Ares was the most hated by all the other gods. He couldn't touch anything without it dying, without it turning to rubble and ash. Even Athena was not immune to his acidic touch and now they were paying the price for his foolishness.

But he denied it, his mind wouldn't process what he was seeing. Her lifeblood was leaking onto his hands, staining his own prized armor as he lowered them both to the floor with her in his lap. She was almost limp in his arms as he cradled her against his chest, one hand moving to staunch the blood flow. It was no use though, it was coming too fast and it was too much. Swallowing he looked down into her face, her eyes were locked on his own. Those eyes were surprisingly clear even with the pain he knew she was going through.

"You look like you're in pain." it was said quietly and he wondered why she said it before he realized how his face must have looked. He hadn't even bothered to hide what this was doing to him. Another swallow, trying to get past that damn lump in his throat as he spoke "Why wouldn't I be, damnit?" he tried to add venom. But it only came out bitter. At himself, at the J'avo who had done this. If he could kill it again he would. And he wasn't fooling her, why should he fool himself? The anger wasn't dominant right now.

The fear and pain were. But as the tears stung at the back of his eyes and his throat burned with the effort of keeping them at bay, he knew he couldn't let it out. Not yet. Instead he tugged off his gloves, careful not to jostle her, and touched her, held her. She was warm like the blood soaking into his clothes and skin, and like it she had become an irreplaceable part of him. A part that was dying along with her. One hand gently held her shoulder, holding her to him as the other one caressed her beautiful face.

"I'm sorry." his voice was a quiet murmur, more words on his lips but he couldn't find the courage to summon them. Even now when she was fading in his arms. _I'm sorry I failed you, I should have been your shield. Your armor. More than a spear at your side, it should have been me._ those words were almost screaming in his mind. Hoping, just hoping, she may hear them or know. But as gifted as she was she was no mind reader, even if she seemed to be half the time. Fingers brushed back through her hair, pausing to cradle it as he found some courage. "There's too much to say, and so little time to say it. But you already knew some of it, didn't you?"

She was quiet, watching and letting him get this out-she had made her peace, and was resigned to the fate she had been given. He hadn't, wasn't. _Please God, don't take her from me._ "I know I never said it. Neither of us have ever had that talk. I don't even know if we were ready or are-but I can't let you go without saying it at least once,". There was a pause before "I love you. If it were possible I think it happened the moment you claimed me. But honestly I don't know when. Somewhere between your place and mine.".

Somewhere along the line he fell in love with what was supposed to be the enemy.

Everything was quiet for a minute, he just sat looking down at her and her at him. "No regrets. Not a moment. You are my true Queen." his Anne in life and now his Jane as she faced death. For he was losing her to a battle he could not fight and win. Her skin was growing colder, even with his warm touch moving over it. It wouldn't be long now. Until then he'd just keep talking "It almost feels like one of our normal meetings. Except we normally do this in a safer place." horrible attempt at humor. "One of the things about us, we could always just talk, or not. Even if I did more of the past revealing. You know more about me than anyone else, I'd wager." was he rambling? He never did that.

Her eyelids lowered just a bit, the eyes under them growing less focused and he knew it'd be any moment now. _Damnit, this isn't supposed to happen!_ he cradled her closer lowering his head until his lips hovered over hers. "Goodnight, and sweet dreams. When you wake up tell me if I were in them." and then their lips touched softly, tender and careful. He doesn't say it, that he'll miss her. He's already broken Spartan code by letting his emotions get the best of him, but if he just pretends that she's going to sleep maybe he can make it. They break apart and her eyes are just a little bit more closed as she mumbled weakly "Will do, handsome.".

It's the last thing she says before her lids slide closed forever and her body falls limp in his grasp. The tears burning in his eyes finally leak down his cheeks and fall, hitting the broken china doll's face. He doesn't even care if his howls of anguish bring more of those beasts, and when they do, he is ready for them. The God of War in top form, his armor covered in blood not his own, and not even all belonging to the enemy. Aphrodite wasn't the love affair of a life, Athena was. And now that she's gone, her mortal vessel tucked away from battle, he rejoins the war he was fighting.

That night there were howls in the wilderness. After all, not even partial victory could sate the broken soul of an immortal who lost his other half.


End file.
